Syndrome
by figliedellatempesta
Summary: Nnoitra is ill. He just wants to get some sleep, but it seems like no one will leave him alone. Just me torturing Nnoitra for fun, slight Nnoi/Tesla hints towards the end.


Anyone who knows me/my writing at all will know this is exactly the kind of crap I love to write. There's a lot of stuff wrong with this one, I ain't very proud of it, but I enjoyed writing it and I sort of like it, regardless of the fact its a bit shit. I was just ill and I decided to make my favourite espada ill too! Anyone who has read any of my older crap will recognise my favourite habit of torturing my favourite characters as much as I can, and also a bit of good old leadershipshipping. The old "subordinate who is in love with his master" thing never gets old to me. Umm, on the off chance you have any comments to make, please do review! (warning, there is some swearing in this one!)

* * *

Santa Teresa was getting heavy, Nnoitra noticed. He normally wielded his slightly unusual zanpakuto with extreme skill and dexterity, but today was different. He was strangely tired, his body was aching and he could hardly carry the weight of his weapon. He rubbed his damp forehead with his sleeve. What was up with him? If he didn't know better, he would have thought he was ill, but espada don't get ill, right? Or at least, he, Nnoitra Jiruga, the 5th espada, didn't get ill. Unfortunately for him, that didn't change the fact he was exhausted and sweating just walking around Hueco Mundo, nor the strange ache in his side that wasn't getting better or going away, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

Nnoitra headed back into Las Noches, where he walked quickly towards his room. The pain in his side was increasing rapidly and he was rather dizzy. He knew he had to lie down soon, or he would fall down.

"Hey, Nnoitra, whats up?". An annoyingly familiar voice interrupted him.

"Grimmjow", he replied with displeasure, "nothing is up, I am merely heading to my room, if you would get out of my way."

"Eh, you're not looking so good Nnoitra, something wrong?"

Nnoitra scowled. There was no way he would ever admit to the lower ranked espada that anything at all was wrong. "I'm fine, you fool", he said, "just get out of my way."

"Ok, be that way, I was actually trying to be nice, but never mind."

Nnoitra glared at Grimmjow, trying to resist the urge to clutch his aching, throbbing side, as that would have made him look weak in front of the sexta. He wiped some of the sweat off his forehead and headed back to his room, where he bent almost double with the pain he had been trying to ignore all day. He wrapped both his arms round his stomach, moaning aloud with pain, now that there was no one here to judge him. He was shaking quite a bit, and literally drenched with sweat. He pulled off all his clothes, save his trousers and collapsed on the bed, pulling the sheet over him. What the hell was wrong with him? How could he, of all people, be this weak? He hated himself for being in so much pain, and feeling so exhausted and drained, but he couldn't help it.

The quinta spent the next few hours lying in bed, tossing and turning feverishly. He couldn't sleep, but nor did he have enough energy to get back up again. He cursed himself and his useless body. At that moment there was a knock on his door. "Go away", he muttered hoarsely.

"Its me, Grimmjow", the reply came, "Aizen-sama wants to see you"

Nnoitra groaned. Why on earth did bloody Aizen want to see him? He struggled to get back up and pull some clothes on. He wasn't feeling any better, but he didn't want to admit to Grimmjow or Aizen that he was ill. He rubbed his aching forehead as he staggered across to the door and pulled it open.

Grimmjow looked at him with a rather smug expression. "Looking good, Nnoitra", he said, sarcastically. Nnoitra glared back. He would have hit him if he hadn't been so dizzy and weak.

"Shut up, Grimmjow. What does Aizen want with me?"

"Damned if I know."

Nnoitra gritted his teeth and set off down the corridor towards Aizen's office. The pain in his side was back with a vengeance, but he knew Grimmjow was looking, so he had to keep walking and not show how terrible he was feeling. His stoical pretence lasted about 10 seconds before the pain doubled and redoubled, his body protesting at him for ignoring his illness. The espada moaned aloud and clutched at the wall for support, grabbing his side with his other hand.

Grimmjow stood a few feet away, eyebrows raised. He knew Nnoitra hadn't been feeling too great for the last day or so, it had been obvious, but it was sort of amusing watching him trying to be tough and not admit that he was ill. "Gonna admit that you're ill now?", he drawled, a superior tone in his voice.

If he had been able to stand up straight, Nnoitra would have said something horrible back to Grimmjow, but as it was, all he could do was nod. "Fine", he muttered.

"Right, well, look, I'll tell Aizen-sama that you're sick. He'll understand, okay, now go back to your room, you look like you're dying".

Nnoitra didn't have the energy to argue. He limped back to his room, panting and clenching his teeth. He sank back onto his bed, pulling his shirt back off and lying down, exhausted.

-

A knock on the door. Szayel Aporro walked over from his desk where he had been examining some data and opened the door. "Aizen-sama", he said, with slight surprise in his voice, "to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"It seems that Nnoitra-san has come down with some sort of strange illness. With your expertise in this area, I thought I would ask you whether you could run a few tests and see if there's anything you can do? I want all my espada in tip top condition for the coming war, and having the quinta out of action will not be helpful."

Szayel nodded. "I see. Very well Aizen-sama, I will see what I can do."

Aizen nodded his thanks and left.

-

Szayel knocked gently on the 5th espada's door. He was aware that he was ill, but he was still 3 ranks above him, and if he did something which displeased him, he was probably going to lose a limb. No answer. "Err, Nnoitra-san? Aizen-sama sent me to see if you're ok... can I come in?". No answer. Tentatively, the octava pushed open the door and walked in. The room was dark and smelled of sweat. The quinta was lying in bed with the sheets pulled up all the way to his neck, tossing and turning. He looked horrible, Szayel thought to himself, even paler than usual, deep grey circles under his eyes and his usually perfect, raven hair damp and bedraggled. If he hadn't known how much the 5th espada hated to be pitied, he would have felt slightly sorry for him.

Well, he was going to have to wake him up if he stood any chance of finding out what was wrong with him. He poked the other espada, gingerly. "Err, Nnoitra-san?" . The espada moaned quietly and opened his one eye.

"Szayel", he groaned, annoyed to have been woken by the effeminate pink haired octava. "Whathfuck do you want?"

"Er, I'm sorry Nnoitra-san, but Aizen wants me to try and see what's wrong with you. I need to do a few tests and stuff."

"Tests?", Nnoitra asked, blearily. He struggled to sit up, glaring at the other espada.

"Yeah, you know, just blood tests and stuff, nothing to worry about. Hopefully I'll be able to find a way to sort you out."

A few beads of sweat broke out on Nnoitra's forehead. Wasn't he already suffering enough without having to have needles stuck into him? "I don't need your help, Szayel", he growled.

"Sorry, Nnoitra. Aizen-sama's orders. He needs all the espada in action as soon as possible."

Nnoitra groaned, rubbing his forehead. Just as he had thought, he was nothing more than a useful fighting robot to Aizen. Why would he care if Nnoitra was sick otherwise. "Fine", he muttered. "Just get it over with as quickly as possible." Nnoitra shuddered as Szayel took out what must surely have been an unnecessarily large needle. Why did he need that much of his blood? Surely Nnoitra needed it more. He turned away and tried not to look as the octava took a needleful of blood from his right arm.

"There, see, that wasn't bad, was it", Szayel said cheerily. Nnoitra just about had time to lean over the side of the bed before he threw up violently into the bin. Szazyel pulled a face as the higher ranking espada retched and gasped, before eventually sitting back up again, looking terrible. "Hmm, you must have been infected by some sort of pathogen originating in the human world", Szayel said, thoughtfully. "It must be affecting your stomach as well as your immune system".

Nnoitra had never wanted to hit the octava quite as much as he did at that moment. "No shit", he muttered. "You gonna do anything about it, or just observe me dying?"

"Hmm...", Szayel mused, "do you mind if I...?". He didn't wait for Nnoitra's answer, merely reached out his hand and pressed at Nnoitra's stomach.

Nnoitra gripped the sheets and moaned out loud with pain. "What the hell are you doing, you bastard?", he gasped.

"I am merely attempting to discern whether or not there has been any inflammation of your internal organs", Szayel replied, matter of factly.

"If you do that again, they will be trying to discern whether or not you even still have any internal organs", Nnoitra growled. God, did the 8th espada have no respect for him at all, poking and prodding at him as if he were a piece of meat. Nnoitra was starting to think he'd rather just take his chances with this illness than have Szayel, of all people, "helping" him. That freak was probably hoping for him to die so that he could chop him up in his lab. Or he was gonna use this as an excuse to stick all sorts of tubes and stuff into him. He could do without that. "Fuck off, Szayel", he muttered, "I'll do fine without your fiddling about".

"Very well, I have most of the data I need anyway", the espada said, turning around and leaving Nnoitra to his misery.

He slumped back onto the bed, feeling even worse than before. Damn that bastard Szayel. He'd probably only come to gloat, and enjoy sticking needles in him. Nnoitra hated needles. Why exactly he was ok with having whole arms sliced off in battle and yet he couldn't handle a tiny needle piercing his skin was a bit of a mystery, but there it was. He pulled the sheet back up over his head and tried to get back to sleep.

Unfortunately for Nnoitra, there was another knock on the door. Nnoitra poked his one eye out from under the sheet and glared. "What now?", he asked, angrily.

"Nnoitra-sama", came the nervous reply, "it's me, Tesla. Sir, please can I come in?"

Nnoitra rolled his eye. Just what he needed, his oversensitve fraccion making a fuss over him. "Go away, Tesla", he muttered.

"But Nnoitra-sama", he stammered back. "Nnoi...tra-s-sama, are you ok?"

Nnoitra groaned. What would it take to shut that idiot up. Why could no one leave him alone when he was trying to sleep? He sat up, intending to go over to the door and hit his fraccion. He was half out of bed when another violent stab of pain hit him in his stomach. "Damn", he cursed, clutching his stomach and panting hard.

Tesla heard his master's small cry of pain and bit his lip nervously. He pushed the door open, tentatively, to see the espada sitting on the edge of his bed shivering and gasping with pain. Seeing his Nnoitra in this much pain hurt Tesla more than it did Nnoitra. He hesitated for a second. "Nnoitra-sama?", he asked, his voice wavering.

Nnoitra grunted through gritted teeth. "Tes...la", he muttered, between gasps, "you just come here to... stare at me, h-have you?"

"N-no sir, I-I I'm sorry. Is there anything at all I can do for you?"

Another groan. "B-bucket", Nnoitra muttered. Tesla grabbed the bin and passed it to his master, who proceded to vomit yet again, his thin body heaving and shaking. Tesla was close to tears. He gently stroked Nnoitra's raven dark hair back out of his face, and rubbed his back gently as he retched and moaned. He would have done anything to make him better. Nnoitra was his world, he couldn't stand to see him get hurt, and now he couldn't stand to see him racked by a strange illness that neither he, nor Tesla could fight. "Don't worry", he said soothingly, "Szayel Aporro-sama will find a cure, you'll be fine again in a day or two".

Nnoitra pulled a face. "I don't... need th-that idiot to h-help... me" he muttered, weakly, "and I d-don't need... you either, Tes...la".

Tesla winced, but he was more than used to Nnoitra's insults and dismissiveness. Nnoitra was so strong and skilled, and he, Tesla was nothing but a mere fraccion. He could never hope to even slightly measure up to his master. But nonetheless, he would serve him with every ounce of strength he had until he died, regardless of how Nnoitra treated him. "I know you don't need me", Tesla said quietly, "but I'm here for you anyway".

Nnoitra didn't seem to be listening. He was clutching his head and looked rather faint. Tesla reached for the sheet and wrapped it around his master's shoulders. Nnoitra leant weakly against Tesla, his head on his shoulder. Tesla froze with surprise. It wasn't at all like Nnoitra to admit any sort of weakness, nor to accept any sort of help. He would almost certainly rather die in battle than have Tesla help him, although Tesla would rather Nnoitra killed him, than see his master killed if there was anything he could possibly do to prevent it. Hence, Tesla was more than surprised to see Nnoitra lean against him like this. He must be really, really ill if he is behaving like this, the fraccion thought to himself, worriedly. He gently eased Nnoitra into a sitting position before lying him back down in bed, his head resting on the pillow, pulling the sheet over him. Tesla sat beside him and bathed his burning forehead with a cold cloth.

"Tes...Tesla", Nnoitra murmured feverishly.

"Yes Nnoitra-sama? What is it?"

"Tesla, I... I don't wana die like this", Nnoitra whispered.

The fraccion winced. "Your're not going to die", he said, "I told you, Szayel Aporro will find a cure, you'll be fine... I promise."

Nnoitra gave a hollow, rasping laugh. "Th-that pink haired... freak, h-he doesn't give a shit". Another wave of pain overcame the espada and he curled up into a ball, giving what could could almost be described as a whimper. Tesla paled. "I... I always thought I'd die in battle", the espada muttered, "I... I'm the quinta es-espada, I... I can't d-die like this, Tes-Tesla", he gripped the front of the other arrancar's shirt.

Tesla didn't know what to say. What do you say, when the man who you have always served, the man you have always loved, a man who has always been strong, confident, undefeatable, is gasping with pain and pleading not to die?

"Don't worry, Nnoitra-sama, you won't die here. Not like this. Ever since I have been your fraccion, I have watched the way you fight, the way you live your life. You have fought and defeated everyone and everything that has stood in your way. If you can't defeat something, you always find a way to become stronger, or another way to win. It... It might not always be the right thing to do, Nnoitra-sama, but I know there is nothing and no one you can't fight. And I also know that I will one day see you cut down in battle, by an opponent who is worthy to take down the great Nnoitra."

Tesla's words were strangely soothing to the slightly panicked espada. He lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes, his breathing and heart rate slowing once again. Tesla was right. This was nothing. He wouldn't die. He would go down fighting. Go down drenched in the blood of his enemy and of himself. It wasn't his time yet.

* * *

er, in case you didn't notice, this story was a bit all over the place, it didn't go in the direction I had planned, although I was happy to get a bit of (one sided) Tesla/Nnoitra love in there. I didn't plan on killing him, then I decided it would be fun, then I chickened out last minute. haha, sorry! I'm planning on writing some better Nnoi/Tesla actually, but I wanted to get the Nnoitra torture out of my system first!


End file.
